The Chronicles of Deep Voice
by Kirei Tsuki
Summary: They say it was just a legend throughout Hillwood. A tale told to a group of children about someone in the past. But when one child knows more than most, the kids of Hillwood begin to figure out that this might be more factual than they imagined. Based off Hey Arnold! The Movie.


**A/N: Hey guys! Wow! I can't believe I actually finished "The Heart of San Lorenzo"! I hope everyone liked the ending. I might make a fic that follows their adventures while Arnold's gone idk. We'll see. Well, as I promised, my new fic: Chronicles of Hillwood: Deep Voice!**

**I do not own Hey Arnold! …sad face...**

"It's not true!"

"Yes it is!"

"Is not!"

"Is too!"

Many faces turned to see a group of children walking the streets of Hillwood on a Saturday afternoon. Within the group was a football headed kid with wild brown hair and piercing green eyes. On top of his head was a familiar blue cap. He wore a red collared shirt and dark blue jeans with red shoes. He was currently arguing with a girl a bit taller than him. She had long black hair and bangs with blue eyes (like her father). In her hair was a headband with yellow bows. She wore a yellow dress, white gloves, and white boots. Following behind them were two blonde twins. One had a high ponytail in a purple ribbon and the other had a ponytail with a blue-green ribbon. The one in purple wore a dress and white flats while the one in blue-green wore white t-shirt and a red plaid skirt with black shoes. Within the group were a set of blasian twins. One was a docile boy with a shaved head surrounding a back ponytail with glasses dressed in basketball uniform over a white t-shirt with white shoes. Next to him was his elder twin sister, who had a curly afro and wore a crimson sweater dress and orange skinnies with white flats. The last two was a lightly tanned kid with pale, blondish-green hair, freckles and glasses dressed in a green sweater vest, brown shorts, a white collared shirt, and turquoise converse. Behind him was a red head with long hair in a green dress wearing black cowboy boots.

"Hey, you guys, what's all the chatter about?" The children smiled as the neighborhood butcher came out of Green's Meats.

"Hi Mr. Berman!" The kids smiled.

"Hey, guys!" From behind him came a brunette girl about 14 years old. She had dark brown hair and wore a pale blue tank and black skinnies with brown flip flops. Francine Berman. One of the hottest girls in the neighborhood.

"Hey Fran!" The boys, Andrew Shortman, Damien Johansson, and Valentine Bartlett, all sighed. The girls, Katherine Lloyd-Gammelthorpe, Valerie Johansson, Anna Belle Armone-Sawyer, and the blonde twins, Abigail and Eleanor Shortman, rolled there eyes, muttering, "Not again."

"Hey you guys!" From behind Fran came Fred, her little brother that was in the fourth grade with them. He highly resembled Mr. Berman, except he had his mothers head shape.

"Where you guys going anyways?" Fred asked.

"We're all headed to my house! Kat here doesn't believe that _Deep Voice_ actually existed. And I'm gonna prove she's full of bologna! 'Cause I know someone who knows Deep Voice!" Andrew declared, crossing his arms.

The kids gasped. "Look here, peasant! I know I'm right! Deep Voice is a myth." Kat stomped her foot in protest.

Anna Belle came in between the two, separating them.

"Chill out, mama, if Andy's write, we'll find out. If he's wrong, he owes you a fully paid for Super Sundae at Slausen's!" Val grinned, wiggling her eyebrows at Kat.

"Fine! And if I win, you give me enough change for a whole Saturday at the arcade!"

"What! That's crazy!" Kat shouted, her hands on her hips.

"You're rich, how is that crazy?" Valentine crossed his arms, his accent thick and full of sarcasm. **(A/N: I picture him sounding like a kid Dracula rofl what else could it sound like when your mom's Spanish and your Dad's British :P a Transylvanian -_- logic fail…)**

Kat glared at him. "I think that sounds like a fair compromise. Any objections?" Damien asked, looking at the two.

"Deal." They both smirked, shaking hands.

"Dad, can I go?!" Fred stared at his dad.

"I'd like to find out too." Fran smiled.

"Go on and let 'em go Harold." Patty smiled from the counter.

"Yes!" The Berman children high-fived.

"I'll come pick you up when you're ready." Patty waved, pulling Harold inside.

"Bye, ma! By dad!" The kids left the meat shop and headed over to the Shortman-Bartlett residence. The Shortmans' and Bartletts' shared the building next to Sunset Arms. That way, they could all stay together in Hillwood. Sometimes, though, the Bartletts would travel elsewhere because Mr. and Mrs. Bartlett were a famous music artist/DJ duo. They also ran a dance studio in Hillwood. The Shortman kids and Valentine waved as they passed their Grandpa and Great-Grandpa outside playing a game of checkers. Both men smiled and waved back. From the window, you could see Stella and Gertie cooking in the kitchen.

Once in front of their house, Valentine unlocked the door.

"Mom! Dad! Everyone! We're home! And we brought guest!" From out of the kitchen walked a petite, tan 33 year old woman with a large bust. She wore a black and white striped tank and waist high black pants. On her feet were a pair of yellow heels. Her wrists carried lime green bracelets. Around her neck was a charm with the symbol of a native South American civilization.

"Hi Mrs. Bartlett!" The kids chimed in.

"Hola, little ones!" the woman smiled, freckles sprinkled across her cheeks.

"Hey Titi Chal, where's mom?" Abby asked, as she and Eleanor received tight hugs.

"Last time I saw her, she was outside with the men in her garden. Ven, ama!" They children followed Chal outside to the backyard. Two men sat in lawn chairs, a radio playing Dino Spumoni between them, while a blonde woman was on her knees tending to her flowers, the sun radiating off their blonde hair.

"Mom! Dad!" The three adults looked up to see Chal approaching with their kids.

"Hey!" Arnold, currently 34, picked up his twin girls. Helga removed her gardening gloves to reveal clean hands. She hugs Andrew tightly before standing.

"What's with the crowd?" Brain stood, cutting off the radio.

"We have a bet on our hands, brothers and sisters. Kat here doesn't believe in _Deep Voice._ Andy here does." Val started and Damien finished, "If Kat wins, she gets a Super Sundae from Slausen's. If Andrew wins, he gets enough money to last him a full day in the Arcade."

"Did he now?" Helga crossed her arms and glared at her son. Andrew let out a nervous chuckle. Arnold gave him a half-lidded stare of disapproval.

"How about we switch this around a little." Arnold smirked, sending Helga a wink. She grinned at her husband in return, "I couldn't agree more, my darling. What do you two think?"

"I can't believe you guys actually agree." Brainy smirked, earning a swat on the arm.

" Idiota! I think it's a good idea. Let's trade prizes." Chal grinned. Andrew, on the other hand looked absolutely mortified.

"Oh! I get it! So if Kat is right, she gets arcade money. But if Andrew's right, he has to treat her at Slausen's!" Anna Belle chimed in.

"Precisely." Helga smirked as her son hung his head.

"Wait! So this _Deep Voice_ does exist?!" Kat took a step back in shock.

"Of course she does, Katherine, you're talking to her!"

"WHAAAAT!?" The kids gasped in shock.

"How about we head in for some snacks and I'll tell you all what really happened."

"Now, this, I've got to hear." Arnold smirked, heading towards the house. The rest quickly agreed and followed. As the kids settled down in the living room, Chal and Brainy got some fruits and Yahoos from the fridge.

Arnold locked the back door before sitting down in his big chair, his daughters on his lap. Brainy sat on the couch and Chal sat in his lap, legs lying out on the couch. At the end of the couch sat Fran, leaning on the armrest. Around the coffee table, Anna Belle sat in front of Damien. On the opposite side sat Val, who smiled at a blushing Valentine behind her. In front, Andrew and Kat went to sit. They accidently brushed against each other and glared, then turned away blushing.

"Peasant." She blushed.

"Crazy." His face turned bright red.

"Alrighty, then. Let's see. Where do I begin…."

It was just a regular day in Hillwood. The sun was shining brightly on the city. The streets were filled with kids playing baseball. Mothers were bringing in their laundry as they checked on their children. I could see Sid and Stinky playing in the water with Lila and Sheena too. I was preoccupied with my own afternoon fun: setting up targets for my archery practice. My football-headed targets to be exact.

I dug into my backpack and pulled out my bow and arrows. Dr. Bliss told my parents it would be a good idea to get me started in an afterschool activity to help me vent my anger and frustrations instead of taking it out on them and others. _'Yeah, right, doc! With my family, that's not a possibility.'_ Now I had ballet Tuesdays and Thursdays and archery classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. _'Eh, at least I got to pick one of them.'_ It was Miriam's idea to put me back in ballet. She never said it in front of Bob, but she thinks I'm better than Olga at it. And secretly, I enjoyed it. It was my idea to take archery lessons. After a small accident last week involving a TV and Big Bob's check book, Bob banned me from having my weaponry anywhere near the house.

I took a deep breath as I loaded an arrow and took aim. I let the arrow slide from my fingers just as a loud crash blasted through my eardrums. Just another old building coming down. I shook my head, ignoring the ringing in my ears and readied another arrow. My target went down easy. I sighed to myself. _'Oh, Arnold…why is this so much easier than just telling you how I feel? Why must it be so much easier to hurt you rather than just telling you how I feel! Am I really that desperate for your attention to—'_

Suddenly, the wind around me began picking up, my golden locks wiping around my face. I dropped my bow and arrow as two helicopters flew over my head. Once my ears cleared, I ran to peak over the side of the building I was practicing on top of. I could see everyone gathering around a small TV outside of Green's Meats. I could make out Dr. Bliss, Mr. Green, the Heyerdahls, and some of the gang.

And then my heart skipped a beat.

Approaching the crowed with Tall-hair boy was a 9-year-old boy with gorgeous corn-flower locks blowing in the warm summer wind surrounding an oblong head. A football shaped head. _'Arnold!' _I let out a lovesick sigh as he joined the rest. I leaned over to hear.

"Mr. Green, what's going on?" Arnold asked from the center of the crowd.

Mr. Green frowned, "Its Sheck! He wants to buy up the whole neighborhood so he can knock it down and put up a fancy mall!" The crowd began to mumble about Mr. Green's accusation. _'Sheck? Where have I heard that name before..?'_

"Who's Sheck?" Arnold looked at Mr. Green with the cutest confused look on his face.

The TV began to release the sound of a reporter's voice drawing everyone's attention and quieting the civilians. It looked as if she was at a press conference at some kind.

REPORTER: _**The plan, which was approved by the mayor just moments ago, would allow Future Tech Industries to redevelop a 6-square block between 33**__**rd**__** and 39**__**th**__** Streets. Oh.***_she pauses and listens into her ear piece. She looks back and lifts her mic_***I understand that president and CEO of Future Tech Industries, a Mr. Sheck, is going to make a statement.**_

A grown man in a dark blue pin-striped suit with jet black hair and a large chin walked onto the stage. Now I recognize him! He came into Big Bob's Beeper Emporium a couple weeks ago to talk to dad! I knew I'd heard of him! The crowd of reporters, workers, and investors began to applaud.

He shook hands with our mayor, who looked way too happy to see him. I shivered from my spot on the roof. He took the stand.

SHECK: _**Thank you. I just want to say, I'm delighted by the mayor's support. **_

Gerald interrupted the silence, "Nice suit!" An old man quickly 'shh'd' him. Our mayor quickly hugged Sheck, surprising him.

MAYOR: _**I am behind Mr. Sheck's project 100%.**_

Sheck gave her a knowing smile as photographers took a butt-load of photos.

I smirked to myself. _'Well, someone's easy. There goes her re-election.'_

SHECK: _**Some of you in the effected area may have concerns about how this may affect your homes and businesses. Let me assure you, change is good. This plan represents the **__**end**__** of urban decay. The end of you broken down shops and department stores.**__ -'Uh oh,_' I frowned, automatically feeling the tension of the crowd.He continued—_**the end of antiquated and lapidated store fronts. Its time for a new world. Out with the old, in with the new.**_

__The TV showed a section of our neighborhood, right across the street actually, which was transformed to show a new man with escalators.

Arnold was the first to speak up, "What's wrong with old things? Some old things are great!

Harold nodded in agreement, "YEAH! Like Mrs. Vitello!" The old flower shop owner quickly smacked him in the back of his head with a bouquet, muttering to herself.

"OW!"

I rolled my eyes, "Dumbass…"

"This has been going on for months! The city counsel recommended against it, but the mayor let them do it anyways!" Mr. Green growled, obviously the most upset.

_'Oh-ho, she sooo got laid to do something that stupid.' _I laughed to myself.

Mr. Green frowned, his arms falling to his sides in defeat, "I never figured he could pull it off."

"What does it mean?" Gerald asked, raising an eyebrow.

Mr. Green's anger caught fire again. He stood up on a wooden crate by the TV, "It means they want us to sell out and move away so this _Sheck_ character and his big corporation can move in!" The crowd erupted in protest, discussing what was just said. They began to quiet down as 'Sheck' began to speak again.

SHECK: _**It's time to put the pass behind us. I have seen the future, and its Future Tech Industries! **_

He stepped to the side to reveal the FTi Inc. building here in the city.

Phoebe spoke up in a panic, "But this is our neighborhood!"

Rhonda jumped in, "They just _can't_ tear it down!"

Out of nowhere we all heard up beat, yet dramatic, overdone music start. Gerald moved over to Phoebe and pointed over to Eugene a top a building.

_'Oh, GAWD, no!' _I groaned, face-palming, _'You cannot be serious!'_

He grabbed onto a rope and swung down into one of Mrs. Vitello's flower carts. He popped up wearing some weird getup and began to sing:

_**This is our neighborhood!**_

_**How can they tear it down?**_

_**How could the turn, our smiles, into a frooown**_

I went into my bag and pulled out a slingshot and marble. _'Just aim for the mouth, Helga…that'll shut him up…'_ Everyone continued to look at the boy oddly and slightly embarrassed.

_**But maybe just a feeeeeeeeew!**_

_**Well it's me and you and yoooou!**_

(the music clicks off)

We looked over to see Arnold with a half-lidded, dry stare. _'Oh, is he a god?! Thank you!'_

"No. No singing, Eugene." He walked over to Eugene, who was now on solid ground.

"But I thought the occasion called for it. _**But maybe just a feeeeeew!**_'

"No. This is serious." A horn honks loudly, attracting their attention. A large truck drives by carrying two bulldozers with 'FTi' printed across the side on the door. Arnold looks surprised, as do the rest of our neighbors.

Mr. Green, already far passed pissed speaks up, "We can't take this lying down! We should do something!" The crowd grew rowdy and agreed with Mr. Green.

Arnold joined in, "We could refuse to sell our houses!"

Gerald decided to back him up, "We'll all sign a petition!"

"Yeah," the two boys had gotten everyone's attention, so Arnold continued, "Let everyone know that this is our neighborhood, and we won't go down without a fight!" The crowd threw up there fist, cheering on the short fourth grader that began giving them so much hope.

I backed up to stay out of sight. "Ha! Arnold! What an annoying little goody-two-shoes!" I aimed at one of my targets. A stack of cans built to look like Arnold. It flew apart as my marble penetrated their center. I aimed for the last three. "What a dopey little dreamer." I knocked a hole through the leave of a plant. "What a corny little corndog!" I hit an Arnold shaped stick, a broom, and wood, which shattered.

"Always going around trying to get everyone to look on the brightside and _do the right thing_." I mocked, loading my slingshot and aiming in his direction, "And yet…" I let it go, hitting a cat in a trash can, then threw my slingshot to the ground to pull out my locket, "I love him! _**Love him!**_ I love his sense of right and wrong! I love his unfailing insistence of the needs of the many over the needs of the few!" I picked up the plant I had knocked over moments ago, "But most of all, I love the way his hair smells when I get real close behind him and he doesn't know I'm there, and then he turns and looks at me funny and I **scowl at him** and make an excuse for being so close!" I dropped the plant and walked back over to the edge of the building to get a view of my beloved. "And I insult him to cover up-"I grabbed my crossbow, which had a plunger instead of an arrow, "the secret, adoring feelings for which I've painfully harbored—"I aimed at the back of his head, "Oh~! Arnold!" Instead of hitting him, I hit the tall lanky guy in a tank behind him.

I giggled as it stuck to the man's head.

"Mr. Green can write the petition." Arnold smiled towards the redheaded butcher.

"Say no more, Arnold! I'm already on it!"

I sighed to myself, "If only I could find the guts to tell you! If only I weren't such a coward!" I tossed my crossbow onto my bag in disgust, ashamed of my twisted behavior. My dark, passionate secret. "If only I had your strength!

Arnold continued to excite the crowd, "We'll take it around the neighborhood and get everyone to sign it!"

I frowned when I came to a different realization, "But what if you lose?" I walked towards my targets, grasping the broom with its hairs shaped like Arnold's, "What if the neighborhood **is** torn down and we're separated and we never see each other again!" I could feel my heart speeding up, pounding against my ribcage. I just can't lose Arnold! "And I never, ever cease the chance to tell you how I really feel about you! Oh, Arnold! Oh~! I love you!"

Then I heard a creaking noise behind me. _'I can't believe he followed me up here too! Wasn't he down there playing with a yoyo a couple minutes ago?!'_ The wheezing and hot breath on my back began to irk my nerves and I turned to see Brainy, chimney sweep-style, smiling at me. Irritated, I smacked him down with my broom, his glasses flying off as he fell over. He rubbed his cheek as I snatched up his glasses, handing them to him. He wheezed out a 'thanks'.

"Ya know, this is getting kind of old. And how'd you change so fast?" He just shrugged at me, giving me that creepy grin of his.

"He adjusted his glasses and threw off his hat. "So…uh…what are you going to do?" My head snapped back up to the slouching Brit. Even though he was still obviously crushing on me, we had somehow become companions at some point. I was use to his presence, but sometimes, when he spoke, it still threw me off.

"Excuse me?" One side of my brow rose.

"What are you gonna do?" He wheezed out again, "To help Arnold."

"Nothing!" I glared, "I don't know!"

"That's kind of a crappy answer, Helga." I quickly punched him in the arm, earning an 'OW!'

"I'm not going to do anything, bucko! GOT IT?!" I snapped back , then started to pack up my stuff. He stood and gathered my targets throwing them over the side into the large trashcan.

"How'd you know that was even there?"

"Uhh, my house?" he pointed downward. _'Oh. Didn't see that one coming…'_

"Right."

"Well, beautiful ladies first."

He stepped to the side for me to go past him. I rolled my eyes as he grinned, pushing him over as I made my way to the fire escape.

**A/N: Well, there's the first chapter. Not sure when I'll update but I'll try to do it soon! I really gotta get started on my comic "Fuego!" which I'm hoping you all will check out but ill do pics for this too! Love you guys! R&R! –Kirei**


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